


Pleasure before Business

by TheDVirus



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blow Jobs, Frenemies, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Gay Sex, Gift Giving, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Male Friendship, Male Slash, Nygmobblepot, Nygmobblepot Week 2017, One Night Stands, One Shot, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 06:17:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10270127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDVirus/pseuds/TheDVirus
Summary: First fic for Nygmobblepot Week, Prompt: 'Future Riddler/Penguin'Years after his fateful confrontation with Oswald at the docks, Edward flees from the scene of his latest daring robbery, Batman hot on his heels, to the only place of safety nearby: The Iceberg Lounge. He has a gift and (he hopes) something much more intimate for his long time frenemy Oswald...





	

Ed slid down the door, too weak to continue pounding any more.  
He heard a security buzzer sound as it finally creaked open.  
He caught sight of a pair of satin heels and fishnet tights but was overcome by a coughing fit before he could speak to the person at the door. As he tried to stop coughing, he heard the woman’s heels clicking quickly as she left the doorway.  
He hoped she was going to fetch help.  
He looked up, heart racing, half expecting to see a winged shape swoop down on him from the rooftops overlooking the alley but all he could see above him were tumultuous clouds occasionally lit by lightning.  
The heavy rain felt cool on his bruised face and as he stirred slightly, he detected that the object tucked away in his jacket was undamaged despite his panicked flight from the museum.  
He heard the woman return, accompanied by a few other sets of footfalls.  
He didn't have to raise his head to see who it was: the shiny shoes that appeared beside him were a distinctive black and white.

‘Please help me’, Ed gasped, spitting out blood that had dribbled from his nose into his mouth.

Swallowing, he looked up, eyes narrowing as the glare from the streetlight hurt them.  
Oswald looked down at him. He was dressed in his ‘work clothes’ as he called them: a fine tuxedo with a top hat and monocle. It made Ed’s sorry state all the more pathetic by comparison.  
Oswald’s monocle reflected the streetlight making the eye behind appear white and lifeless. The other exposed eye might as well have been made of glass.

‘Oswald…please’, Ed begged.

He weakly reached for Oswald but passed out before he could make contact, his fingers falling limply to the ground.  
Oswald’s henchwomen looked at their employer, awaiting orders.  
Oswald did not hesitate.

‘Bring him inside’, Oswald said, glancing warily up at the rooftops, ‘Hurry!’

 

‘Where’s Nygma?’ Batman growled.

Oswald ignored the shocked gasps from the clientele of the Iceberg Lounge. Reaching up, he brushed a few shards of glass from the shoulder of his dinner jacket. Batman’s entrance through the closed skylight had certainly gained the attention of everyone in the room. Oswald just hoped it wouldn’t result in any lawsuits from the fallen glass and made a mental note to replace the table he was sitting at. He wasn’t sure it was designed to hold the weight of the heavily armoured man now standing on it.

‘Ah. The direct approach’, Oswald said airily, waving a hand to signal his men stationed around the Lounge to lower their guns, ‘ I admire that in a man with a mask’.

‘Where. Is. He?’

Oswald resisted the urge to swallow nervously, pretending to examine an empty wine glass critically. Batman watched him, tolerating the charade. Even he knew there was protocol to be followed on Oswald’s turf.

‘What makes you think I know?’ Oswald finally asked.

‘You and he have…history. He ran this way’.

Oswald gave a bitter laugh that he prayed sounded genuine.

‘Ancient history my chiropteran friend’, he said, ‘The only reason he would come here is if he wanted me to put him out of his misery and I assure you I would relish the pleasure’.

Oswald maintained the vicious smile even under the unblinking, hard stare of the man in the mask.  
After what seemed like an eternity, Batman spoke.

‘I don’t want to have to come back here Cobblepot’.

‘Believe me, the feeling is mutual’, Oswald sniffed and before he could blink, Batman was gone, vanishing back into the darkness and the rain bleeding in from the broken skylight.

 

Ed watched Oswald make placating gestures with his hands to the customers and give more hushed instructions to his men moving towards him seeking orders following Batman’s visit.  
Ed took deep breaths, trying to calm his heart rate. He hadn’t expected Oswald to turn him in but he had looked so small next to Batman, Ed had felt an instinctive urge to protect the slighter man.  
He had been tempted to flee while Batman and Oswald had been talking but knew he wouldn’t get far. He winced even at the thought of attempting the stairs, never mind taking them at speed being pursued by a nightmarish vigilante.  
His ribs were definitely bruised (he prayed none were broken but he hadn’t checked properly yet), he had two black eyes judging from the aches he could feel, his legs felt heavy from all the running and he had jarred his wrist throwing an ill-judged punch at Batman. He had been trying to stop him choking him with one hand.  
It had only been thanks to one of the hired help taking a potshot at the Bat that Ed had been able to pelt for the emergency exit at the museum and out into the street. Batman dealing with his henchmen had enabled Ed to gain much needed distance, ignoring the pain thundering through his body, the freezing rain and the blind panic pumping in his veins to reach the only safe place nearby.  
The Iceberg Lounge.

Ed had woken up in Oswald’s office, lying on the bed. Oswald had had it installed as he often worked late or kept irregular hours. Ed had been stripped down to his underwear but his clothes were neatly folded nearby. Oswald appeared to have arranged for them to be washed and dried while Ed slept. He was grateful for it: the torrential rain had soaked him through to the bone. Judging from the time on a nearby wall clock, he had been out for half an hour. He had been awakened by the crash from down in the Lounge as Batman had finally tracked him to his hiding place. He had been careful to hide behind the frame of the large window installed in the office wall that looked down into the restaurant as he had watched the resulting scene.

He saw Oswald turn and knew from his route that he was coming back upstairs.  
Ed hobbled back to the bed as fast as his aching body would allow and lay back down, feigning sleep.

He heard the office door creak open and the turn of a key in the lock as Oswald entered.  
Ed peeked out from beneath his arm and watched Oswald hang his top hat on a nearby hat stand which also housed Ed’s rain stained jacket. 

Oswald passed a hand over his face and sighed heavily.  
He limped past Ed’s bed without looking at him and sat in the leather swivel chair behind the mahogany desk. Reaching into the top left hand drawer, he took out a fine cigarette holder and lit it using a match from an Iceberg Lounge matchbook.  
He turned his chair around and looked down into the Lounge proper, hoping the cigarette would help calm him down.  
Even though they ‘had an understanding’, dealing with the Batman remained an unpleasant and intimidating experience, even for a criminal mastermind like Oswald Cobblepot.  
He should have just let Batman take Edward. It wasn’t as if he owed him anything. It wasn’t like they were friends.  
But then what were they?  
He knew this visit was very likely going to end the same way as all of Edward’s previous visits, infrequent though they were. Only Ed’s injuries and the accompanying pain cast any doubt on this.  
First there would be verbal sparring, then inevitably a frantic sex session, after which Edward would leave discreetly via the backdoor and Oswald, awash with the pleasure of the intimacy he had just experienced and simultaneously crushed with the despair of Ed’s departure would drink himself to sleep. It was the main reason he had gotten a bed installed in the office, not just because he often worked late.  
The worse thing was that Ed would always bring him a present. A new umbrella, a taxidermy Umbrella Bird, a sheaf of rare Audubon stamps, the list went on and on. It cast an unpleasant light on their meetings. It made them too similar to those experienced in the backs of cars or cheap motel rooms.  
It couldn’t go on like this. 

Ed let Oswald smoke for a few minutes but then, realising Oswald had no intention to leave anytime soon and bored of pretending to asleep, he piped up.

‘Those things will kill you’.

Oswald raised an eyebrow at Ed’s assessment of his smoking habit.

‘It’s better than being pulverised by a grown man dressed as a flying rodent’, he replied coolly, nevertheless extinguishing the offending item in a nearby crystal ashtray, ‘I was wondering how long you were going to keep pretending to be asleep’.

‘Bats aren’t rodents’, Ed replied lamely, wincing as he sat up.  
His ribs ached.

‘If you'd just hurry up and figure out who he is you'd save us all a lot of trouble’, Oswald commented, offering him a glass of ice water.

Ed accepted it gratefully. He sipped carefully, feeling the chilled liquid soothe his hoarse throat. Judging from the tenderness he was feeling, there was going to be bruising from where Batman’s fingers had fastened themselves around his neck.  
A stark contrast to how Oswald had been treated by ‘the Dark Knight’. Despite a heavy show of forceful intent and unheard yet obviously threatening words, Batman hadn’t laid a hand on him.

‘Maybe I'm just looking for an excuse to visit you?’ Ed said, putting the half empty glass down on the bedside table.

‘Nice to see your sense of humour is undamaged’, Oswald deadpanned.

Ed watched Oswald picked up a fountain pen and began to tick various items off a bulky pile of what appeared to be shipping manifests. He had obviously been working on them before Ed’s impromptu visit judging from the ink stains on his hands and the pile of completed ones on his other side.

Ed picked up his (somewhat squashed) bowler hat and dusted it off. He noted that such a self-contained, small scale business like ‘The Iceberg Lounge’ would have no need of that much paperwork related to imports and exports.  
So the rumours were true. Oswald wasn’t keeping his beak as clean as he pretended to be.

‘It’s impolite to wear hats indoors’, Oswald commented, halting Ed’s movement to place it back on his head.

Shrugging, Ed acquiesced to his host’s wishes and put the hat back down. He selected a neutral topic of conversation. 

‘How's business?’

‘Doing well. The new supervillain themed cocktails are a big hit’. 

Oswald gestured to a selection of fliers on the desk. Ed flicked through them and felt a twinge of annoyance that he was not one of the personas listed. He would’ve been a perfect fit for a Grasshopper. Oswald could be so petty sometimes. 

‘So much for not ‘indulging’ all this supervillain nonsense’, Ed said.

‘Exploiting is not the same as indulging’, Oswald corrected, ‘If the good people of Gotham want to pay an extra five dollars because I put a sprig of ivy in their ‘Bloody Mary’ or call a ‘White Russian’ a ‘DA’s Coin Toss’ who am I to disagree?’

‘You know I wasn't talking about that kind of business’.

‘I'm not sure I like what you're implying’.

‘Sorry. I forgot you’re still going with the ‘legitimate businessman’ spiel’.

Oswald’s eyes narrowed at Ed’s teasing.

‘I go with whatever's profitable. You should do the same. Open a PI office or something’.

‘Sounds way too safe’, Ed scoffed.

‘Anywhere else than Gotham maybe. You'd be good at it. You work best alone and there's less broken bones’.

‘And broken hearts?’ Ed ventured carefully.

Oswald put down his fountain pen with a sharp tap. Ed had half expected him to snap it in half.

‘Since you're not dying I think It's time you left’, Oswald said brusquely.

‘Oswald-‘ Ed began but Oswald interrupted.

‘My name is Penguin or ‘Mr Cobblepot’. Now, once you've applied that brilliant brain to finding the way out, I suggest you then make sure the door doesn't hit you as you leave’.

Oswald returned his attention to the paperwork but Ed could tell he wasn’t really reading it.

‘Do you ever think about how we met?’ he asked.

Oswald sighed harshly but replied: ‘Why?’

‘Just curious. I think about those days sometimes. You and me against the world’.

‘When I get up first thing in the morning and feel my stomach ache I don't have much choice do I?’ Oswald growled.

Ed felt a pang of guilt. It was a familiar feeling.

‘How many times are you going to make me apologise for that?’ he asked.

‘At least once more I think’, Oswald grumbled.

‘Is there any way I’m ever going to be able to make it up to you? We were friends once’.

‘Key word: 'were'. I would've expected you of all people to be more careful with language Riddler’.

Oswald’s use of his media name always bothered Ed more than it logically should have.

‘Why don't you ever call me Ed anymore?’

‘Because ‘Ed’ didn't have something to prove’, Oswald said, casting a critical eye over Ed’s state of undress, ‘And he knew how to dress’.

‘Says the man wearing a monocle’, Ed replied and took off his domino mask. For some reason Oswald (or whoever had undressed him) had left it in place.

He sighed in relief as the cool air touched his skin.

‘Better?’ he asked.

‘You don't need it with those bruises around your eyes anyway’, Oswald sniffed.

Ed looked at his reflection in the wall mounted mirror and grimaced at the vibrant colours beginning to blossom around his bloodshot eyes.

‘I thought you liked purple’, he joked half-heartedly.

‘Maybe but I don’t care much for green’, Oswald said.

‘You still haven't asked why I was robbing the museum’, Ed said light heartedly, deliberately ignoring Oswald’s jab at his favoured colour.

‘That's because I'm not interested. Besides the less I know the better’, Oswald said looking ruefully through the office window down into the lounge.

His staff were still clearing away the broken glass from Batman’s entrance.  
Still, a little mess was worth the additional attention. Already the guests were clustering around, taking pictures and gabbling excitedly about having seen the famous Batman in action.

‘You might be interested if you knew why’, Ed smiled, ‘I mean, you must be a little curious. Why else would you protect me? Why not just let the Batman take me?’

‘Still have time to change my mind’.

‘To be honest I'm kind of disappointed you hadn't snagged this little goody yourself yet’.

‘What?’

‘Box without hinges, key or lid yet inside a golden treasure’s hid’, Ed pronounced, walking to his jacket hanging on the peg, ‘Though in this case the outside may be more valuable’.

Ed took his jacket off the peg and reached inside.

‘Voila!’ he said, throwing the jacket onto the bed with a flourish, ‘Faberge egg of the Tsars’.

He held his prize aloft, making sure to catch the light at the perfect angle. The purple and green gems embedded in its golden surface twinkled. It was a miracle it hadn’t received so much as a crack during Ed’s escape.

‘I didn't think bejewelled protein was your type of thing’, Oswald said in a deliberately unimpressed tone.

But Ed had seen his eyes widen covetously for the briefest moment.

‘It's your ‘thing’ though’, Ed said, rolling it cross the desk to Oswald, ‘Don't tell me you don't know what day it is’.

Oswald didn’t reply as he carefully halted the egg mid roll but once again Ed saw his answer in Oswald’s eyes. They had darted away for a single second. Oswald remembered. He just wasn’t willing to indulge Ed in a ‘Q and A’ session.

‘It's the date we first met’, Ed went on, ‘Remember? At the GCPD? You told me I was ‘standing too close?’’

Oswald stopped examining the egg and rubbed the bridge of his nose, brow furrowed.

‘You risked getting every bone in your body broken and brought Batman down on both our heads just to bring me a weird kind of anniversary present?’ he asked in disbelief. 

‘That's not the only reason’, Ed admitted.

‘Good’, Oswald said then broke into a yell, ‘Because it's a totally pointless and idiotic thing to do! You risked your freedom and got the stuffing kicked out of you for an egg?! You're supposed to be smarter than this Ed!’

Ed’s widening smile only irritated Oswald more which of course made it more fun for Ed.

‘It was worth it’, he said.

‘For what?’ Oswald asked incredulously.

‘To hear you call me ‘Ed’’, Ed said, grinning triumphantly.

Oswald rolled his eyes and Ed leant over the desk, ignoring his protesting muscles.

‘Come on, don't tell me you don't miss it’, he said, ‘The thrill of the chase. The satisfaction of victory’.

Oswald didn’t answer him but Ed expected that. Oswald had always been stubborn. Ed picked up a statuette of a penguin sitting on the desk. He turned it in his hand and admired how the light caught the emeralds it had for eyes as well as the weight of it. Heavy usually meant expensive.

‘It’s a beautifully feathered nest Oswald but doesn’t it feel like a gilded cage sometimes?’

‘I told you, it’s Penguin’, Oswald corrected, taking the statuette off Ed and putting it back in place, ‘And running down alleyways and hiding in dumpsters is not my idea of a good time. I prefer outsourcing that sort of thing’.

Oswald opened his desk drawer and placed the egg carefully inside. 

‘Thank you for the present. It was a lovely thought’, Oswald said in the tone of voice usually reserved for children expected to be grateful to be given socks for Christmas.

Ed noticed a tatty looking piece of paper inside the drawer. It looked familiar despite its crinkled, dog eared texture. He realised it was an origami shape. A penguin.

‘Is that-‘ Ed began but the snap of the drawer being slammed shut silenced him.

‘Goodbye Riddler’, Oswald said. 

 

‘What about my payment?’ Ed asked, ‘I never said you were getting the egg for free’.

Oswald yanked the drawer open again and grabbed the egg.  
And there it was, right on queue. Time for Oswald to give Ed what he was owed.  
This visit was going exactly as he expected it would. Just like all the others before it.

Ed was gratified his question had achieved its true purpose. That time he had definitely seen the shape. It was the same origami penguin Ed had made for Oswald all those years ago the first time he was imprisoned in Arkham.  
Despite everything that had happened, Oswald had kept it. Ed felt a strange flutter in his chest at the realization.

‘In that case take it back’, Oswald said, irritated, rolling the egg back across the desk towards Ed.

Ed halted it with a single finger and leaned further over the desk.

‘A kiss’, he said.

Silence greeted his statement until Oswald broke it.

‘What?’ Oswald deadpanned.

‘That's all I want’, Ed said, holding up his hands to demonstrate his sincerity, ‘One kiss. No money, no favours, no strings attached’.

‘You have a lot of nerve-‘

‘You have to have a lot of it to wear green that bright’, Ed said, indicating his freshly cleaned suit, ‘Come on Oswald, oh sorry, ‘Mister The Penguin’. I'll even beg if you like?’

‘Why are you doing this?!’ Oswald demanded, ‘What's the end game?! Because if it's an umbrella stuck somewhere very intimate I can arrange that right now’.

Ed crossed his eyes to better examine the pointed tip of the umbrella Oswald was now pointing directly between his eyes. Even if this particular umbrella that Oswald had been concealing under the desk wasn’t one of Oswald’s special ones, that metal spike looked like it would hurt. No matter where Oswald decided to jab.

‘Interesting imagery to use’, Ed said calmly, raising his hands, ‘Very Freudian’.

Oswald smiled bitterly and stood up. 

‘I assure you that ship sailed long ago’, he hissed, walking around his desk, umbrella still pointed at Ed, ‘It sank into Gotham bay after you caused it to spring a leak. Now, unless you want to take a dip yourself, I'm telling you for the last time: leave’.

‘Icebergs sink ships too Oswald’, Ed whispered, backing slowly away.

Oswald momentarily lowered the umbrella to point it at Ed’s effects. Ed assumed Oswald was permitting him to collect them to prevent Batman from discovering any incriminating evidence after his departure. Or his staff asking why The Riddler had left his office in only his underwear. 

‘Do you use it as a symbol to protect yourself?’ Ed asked, reaching slowly for his question mark cane, ‘From me?’

‘No. That’s why I have this’, Oswald said and suddenly leapt forward, umbrella outstretched like a fencing foil.

Ed dodged to the side and brought up his cane, parrying Oswald’s thrusts one after the other.  
They both knew neither one of them would overcome the other. They knew each other’s moves too well and neither of them were very physical in the first place.  
It was Ed who decided to end it first. He twirled his cane expertly and caught Oswald’s umbrella in the curve of its hilt. Twisting his wrist, the umbrella was wrenched from Oswald’s hand and rolled out of reach.  
Oswald gasped as Ed used his cane’s curve like a stage hook to draw him close.  
Pale eyes glared into their dark, inscrutable counterparts.

‘You think this is one big joke’, Oswald whispered, ‘You think you can just waltz in here whenever you like, take what you want then waltz back out again. ‘No strings attached’’.

‘Just tell me when to stop Oswald’, Ed said, running a long finger down Oswald’s lapel, ‘Tell me you hate me. That you don’t enjoy these little games of cat and bird we play. That you don’t enjoy being…’

He trailed off and, drawing closer, whispered into Oswald’s ear.

‘Caught?’ he concluded, allowing his lips to graze the sensitive skin of Oswald’s lobe.

Oswald gave a low chuckle that Ed quickly identified was nothing to do with his teasing.

‘Are you-are you laughing at me?’ he asked, confused, moving back to get a better reading of Oswald’s face.

‘Not at all’, Oswald said, a satisfied smile on his face as he dismissively shook the cane free of his neck, ‘ You see, I've figured it out’. 

‘Figured what out?’ Ed asked, perplexed.

‘Why you keep coming back here. Why you keep sending me riddles in the mail or bringing these presents. I checked with some of our ‘associates’ and I know you don’t give them the same amount of…attention. I think Ivy was quite offended to be honest’.

Ed rubbed the top of his cane thoughtfully.

‘Why didn’t you hand me over to Batman?’ he asked.

‘Don’t change the subject’, Oswald said, wagging a finger, ‘You keep coming back here because you're still the peacock you always were. You come in here and show off your feathers because you want to impress me. Even after all this time’.

‘Why would I want to impress you?’

‘Because you want something from me’.

This time, Oswald was the one drawing closer. Ed tried to step back but his back hit the desk. Oswald leant up, deliberately invading his space.  
He titled his head quizzically when he saw Ed’s eyes widen at Oswald’s proximity. He was unused to Oswald being the one doing the propositioning and obviously intrigued by Oswald’s sultry tone of voice.

‘Something nobody else can give you’, Oswald said, reaching up.

‘And what’s that?’ Ed whispered, leaning his face into Oswald’s palm, savouring the way the warmth soothed his bruises.

‘ _Surprise_ ’, Oswald answered and kissed him on the mouth.

Ed’s eyes widened for only a moment, then he dropped the cane and reciprocated.  
He felt Oswald’s hand on the back of his neck and placed both of his own on Oswald’s cheeks, holding him in place.  
Their tongues danced over each other but Ed could tell Oswald was holding back, giving him the merest taste before his tongue danced away. Ed took it as the invitation it was and shoved his tongue into Oswald’s mouth, tasting him deeply.

Then suddenly, Oswald pulled away completely.

Ed felt his cock pulse as he saw Oswald was smiling: a little, dark smile that showed only the points of his teeth.

‘I’m not the only one who needs relief’, Oswald purred, ‘Am I… _Ed_?’

Ed gasped as he suddenly felt Oswald squeeze his balls gently.  
Oswald’s smile widened as he saw Ed’s unsteady knees quiver and his hips buck.  
Ed leant his head back as Oswald stroked him to full hardness. He always knew just where to touch him. How to make him _squirm_!

‘God I love it when you say my name’, he gasped.

‘And I love being right’, Oswald said, withdrawing his hand from Ed’s erection, ‘Now, I think that was a fair trade for the egg don’t you? I even threw in a little extra’.

Ed’s brow furrowed and Oswald chuckled.

‘You should know by now, when dealing with me, you always get more than you bargained for’, Oswald said.

This time it was Ed who grabbed the back of Oswald’s head.

‘But not more than I can handle’, Ed growled and kissed him.

No teasing this time.  
This time, Oswald fully responded to Ed’s seeking tongue, entwining it with his own and moaning at the heat he felt pooling in his crotch.  
Using his other hand, Ed dexterously opened Oswald’s fly and began to give him the same treatment Oswald had just given him. He was rougher than Oswald had been with him because he knew that was how Oswald liked it. He could tell from the hiss Oswald gave and the hungry way he licked his lips when Ed pulled away from the kiss.

‘Good answer?’ he asked.

‘Good answer’, Oswald agreed breathlessly, extending a finger and clicking a button on the desk intercom.

He cleared his throat to regain some form of composure before he spoke.

‘Margaret’, he said.

‘Yes Mr Cobblepot?’ came the crackly reply from Oswald’s secretary.

‘See that I’m not disturbed for the next hour. Mr Nygma and I are...entering negotiations’.

‘I understand Sir’.

‘Oh no she doesn’t’, Ed laughed as Oswald clicked off the intercom, 'So I only have you for the ‘next hour?’'

'I have a busy schedule. Make the most of it'.

‘I doubt you’ll last that long’.

‘Is that a challenge?’ Oswald asked, cocking an eyebrow.

 

Conscious of Oswald's bad knee as well as his own injures, Ed steered Oswald towards the bed as an answer. Oswald let himself be directed for now, enjoying the look of undisguised hunger on Ed’s face.  
He let Ed throw him down and smirked in anticipation as he looked up to see Ed leaning over him, the bed supporting his weight. Oswald sighed as he felt Ed’s erection press through the material of their clothing, a mirror image of his own desire.

‘Top or bottom?’ Oswald asked coyly.

‘I ask the questions around here’.

‘Not in my establishment. Now, undress me’.

Ed obeyed the command, unbuttoning Oswald’s dinner jacket carefully.

‘We’re going to be here all night if you carry on like that’, Oswald said with faux criticism.

Ed took the hint. He tore the jacket and Oswald’s dress shirt open with one concentrated tug. Buttons flew and Oswald gave an aroused gasp at the show of strength.  
Ed leant down and kissed one of Oswald’s dusky nipples, teasing the other with gentle pinches of his fingers. Oswald kissed Ed’s neck in reply, lightly nipping him with his teeth before lathing the bite marks lovingly with his tongue.  
Suddenly, without warning he fastened his lips tight on Ed’s neck and began to suck hard. Ed cried out at the pleasurable pain and returned the favour, running a tongue luxuriously along Oswald’s pert nipple.  
Both of them moaned and gasped, spurring both their arousals on as they ground against each other in unison.

Finally, Ed couldn’t take anymore and began to straighten up.  
Oswald took the hint and released his hold on Ed’s neck. He smiled as he saw the indentation and the purple bruise flowering on Ed’s skin from where he had marked him.  
Ed took off his boxers before yanking Oswald’s trousers down, leaving them both naked (save for Oswald’s black dress socks). Oswald always went commando under his finery: a dirty little secret only Ed was privy to.  
Oswald, too excited to worry about the implications of being ‘bottom’ for their power dynamic sat up also. Ed, recognising the usual signal, stood beside the bed, cock at a level with Oswald’s face.  
Oswald took Ed into his mouth and began to suck tenderly.  
Ed entwined his fingers in Oswald’s hair encouragingly as he savoured the blessed warmth of Oswald’s mouth. He tried to think about non-erotic things to ensure he would last until ‘the main event’ but the sight of Oswald’s head bobbing back and forth beneath him was hypnotic.  
The thought of such a prideful man as Oswald giving him a blowjob was exciting enough but the reminder that he was one of the most powerful figures in Gotham’s underworld made it downright intoxicating.  
When Oswald drew back, having tasted precum, Ed quivered as his cock was exposed to the cool air.  
He knew he didn’t have long to wait though.  
Oswald was already getting into position, crawling forwards a little on his hands and knees in front of Ed, placing a pillow beneath himself.  
Ed reached beneath the bed and picked up the lube he knew was always kept there.

As Oswald felt Ed apply the gelantinous lube generously to his well-used entrance, he supposed he should feel irritated or ashamed that the visit seemed to be following the same pattern as all those that had come before (Ed brought him a gift and he spread his legs in return) but he was too focused on his own imminent pleasure to care.  
His hips bucked as he felt Ed insert one finger then another and move them gently back and forth. He gripped the blanket so tightly his fingers formed into claws. Usually he would have relished Ed’s consideration of his comfort but the circumstances of their meeting had him in the mood for rougher pleasures to reflect the risk should Batman find out what they were up to.  
Looked like Ed was right: he did still enjoy a little danger.

After what seemed like an age, Ed withdrew his fingers.

‘Ready?’ Ed asked, lining up, seeing both their preparations were complete.

Oswald waved his ass invitingly in reply.

‘Just what I wanted to hear’, Ed sighed and plunged inside without further ceremony.

Oswald gave a choked gasp that quickly transformed into a guttural moan of pleasure as Ed graced his pleasure centre.  
As he felt Ed dispense with gentle, searching thrusts and begin to pick up speed , he realised neither of them was in the mood to wait any longer.  
He gripped his own neglected erection and traced a thumb along the head in a spiral motion, feeling precum coat his fingers before beginning to pump furiously. He liked it rough and Ed was more than happy to oblige.  
After a few moments, during which the sound of skin slapping against skin seemed practically deafening, Oswald felt one of Ed’s hands wrap around his throat and squeeze gently but firmly.  
He smiled in bliss. Ed loved a neck.  
It was a sign he was getting close.  
As was the sensation of the fingers of Ed’s other hand digging into his hip. They suddenly relaxed and Oswald realised Ed was worried about hurting him.  
He rammed his hips back and cried out at the pure pleasure that coursed through his body as he impaled his pleasure centre on Ed’s cock.

‘When will you learn?!’ he demanded huskily.

He looked over his shoulder, up at Ed.

‘I can take anything you can dish out!’

He loved how Ed looked right now. His hair was ruffled and his skin shone with sweat under the office lights. His eyes were hooded and glazed over, like a man under a spell but the hunger in them was unmistakable. He looked so…powerful.

‘Whatever you say Mr Penguin’, Ed growled.

He rammed into Oswald and was rewarded with a wordless shout from Oswald this time. Defiantly he kept his eyes on Ed, as if daring him to keep going.  
Ed tightened his grip on Oswald’s neck, not too tight but enough to make it clear who was really in charge.  
God, Oswald was beautiful like this! The defiance in his pale eyes was like lightning, igniting a desire in Ed he had never felt for anyone else. 

Oswald enjoyed the conceit of being dominated: surrendering his usual iron grip on control to the whims of passion and when it came to passion Ed (despite his usually controlled exterior) seemed insatiable. 

‘Use my name!’ Oswald hissed, eyelids fluttering with ecstasy, ‘Use it!’

‘Oswald’, Ed whispered as he pounded into his partner.

‘Again!’ Oswald demanded, ‘Louder! Ah! I want to hear you scream it!’

Ed dropped all pretence of control, deliriously focusing on fucking Oswald within an inch of his life, their moans and gasps building into a delicious crescendo of sexual lust.

‘Ah-ah, Oswald! Oswald!’ he cried, gripping the smaller man’s hips as he felt pressure building in his stomach, ‘You feel-ah!-so _fucking good!_ ’

‘F- _fuck!_ Fuck _yes!_ ’ Oswald gasped, saliva dribbling down his chin as he was overwhelmed by being screwed so completely and wonderfully, ‘Yes! God-don’t stop! Don’t stop Ed!’

At the sound of his name out of that gorgeous, pleading mouth, Ed felt himself hurled over the edge and he shot deep inside Oswald, rationale flooding back to him with his release.  
He reached forward and hastily grabbed Oswald’s cock.

Feeling Ed’s fingers entwined and pumping along with his own, as well as the sensation of Ed coming inside him proved too much for Oswald.  
He came with a tuneful cry and felt Ed’s arms supporting him, preventing him from falling face first onto the bed as the force of his ejaculation made his knees weak.

They knelt together for a moment until Ed was satisfied Oswald had steadied himself. He withdrew and felt a rush of warmth as he heard Oswald give a plaintiff, longing noise.  
He reached for a box of tissues on the office desk and reaching around, cleaned Oswald before cleaning himself.  
Oswald curled up on the bed and faced the wall, expecting Ed to begin to get dressed as always. No talking, no touching, no eye contact. Just business: services rendered in exchange for goods.

His eyes widened in surprise as he felt Ed curl up behind him, resting his chin on the top of Oswald’s head. He felt Ed move sweat dampened hair out of his eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of their love making as it suffused the atmosphere.  
They both bathed in the peace of the afterglow and Oswald wondered if this was how it really felt after making love. He didn’t dare move in case it turned out to be a wonderful dream his brain had sadistically conjured to torture him with.

'That was amazing’, Ed breathed.

Oswald swallowed nervously as he felt Ed’s warm breath tickle his hair.

'And our next contestant is Edward Nygma’, Oswald laughed quietly to disguise his uncertainty of Ed’s continued presence, ‘Specialist subject: the totally obvious'.

Oswald reached for a box of cigarettes sitting on the table beside the bed and took one out.  
He offered Ed one that he declined politely.  
Oswald seemed to reconsider and, after tucking the cigarette back into the packet, threw the packet dismissively onto the floor.

'I love you Oswald'.

Oswald’s heart skipped a beat even as the bottom dropped out of his stomach.

'Don't ruin this with a bad joke’, he pleaded, a knot forming in his throat, ‘Please’.

‘I’m not joking’, Ed asserted, sitting up.

‘Don’t say it if you don't mean it’, Oswald said, distractedly picking at the bedspread’s design.

'I _do_ mean it’, Ed insisted, laying his hand on Oswald’s shoulder, ‘I-I love you'.

Oswald sat up slowly. He didn’t look at Ed.

‘What’s changed?’ he asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You’ve never said that before. You’ve always just left. Why say it now?’

‘I’ve wanted to tell you’, Ed said sadly, ‘For so long’.

‘So what stopped you?!’ Oswald snapped, head swivelling to look at Ed.

Ed didn’t answer, taken aback by the aggressiveness of Oswald’s tone and the angry look in his eyes.

‘Couldn’t stand the idea of being wrong is that it?’ Oswald asked bitterly.

‘Oswald, please-‘

‘No, _Riddler!_ ’, Oswald sneered the name like a curse, ‘Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words? And now you can’t even give me a good reason why you didn’t?! All those times you left me here alone and acted like it meant nothing! Like I was just-just a quick lay for you! Somewhere warm to stick your dick for a few hours! You know I’ve actually thought sometimes I should charge you for the privilege?! Because at least then time with me would’ve been worth something to you?!’

‘You can’t put a price on something that’s priceless’, Ed said quietly.

‘If you think you’ll sweet talk your way-‘ Oswald began, eyes shining with what looked suspiciously like unshed tears.

‘I’m not’, Ed said calmly, raising a hand, ‘I’m just talking. And I mean _me_ ’.

He took Oswald’s limp hand and held it over his heart.

‘It’s Ed talking. Not ‘The Riddler’. Like I said: no tricks. Not this time’.

Oswald was looking at him warily. Ed knew the look.  
Oswald wanted to believe him.  
Ed just had to give him proof.

He made to get up but was halted by Oswald suddenly gripping his arm.  
The meaning of the gesture was clear: _Please don’t go._  
Ed laid a reassuring hand on Oswald’s for a brief moment and smiled gently. Oswald’s fingers gradually loosened.  
Oswald now knew Ed wasn’t leaving.  
Not this time. 

Ed walked to the desk and picked up the Faberge egg.

‘What always stops me?’ he pronounced.

‘Are you seriously asking me a-‘

‘Yes. Just answer it. Please’.

‘Yourself’, Oswald said, ‘The only reason Batman ever catches you is because you leave clues’.

‘Correct’, Ed said.

He walked back to the bed and sat down. Clearing his throat, he began the speech he had prepared, praying Oswald would let him finish. And see the sincerity in his words.

‘I think I’m smart Oswald but I know I can be a real idiot sometimes. I didn’t tell you how I felt because it was easier to pretend all my previous visits meant nothing. But I’m done pretending, I’m done getting in my own way and I’m done hurting you to avoid facing the truth’.

He paused but Oswald gave no sign of interrupting. He was watching Ed searchingly, weighing up his words.

‘If you don’t feel the same’, Ed said, taking a deep breath, ‘I don’t blame you. I just thought you deserved to know how I truly feel. Its why I stole this. It made me think of you’.

Ed clicked the egg open slightly and held the egg out to Oswald who took it in shaking hands.  
He flipped the lid open, revealing the inside of the egg.  
The inside of the egg, unlike the golden, metal outside was completely wooden.  
Two swans were nestled side by side, their heads resting against each other and their long necks forming a heart shape.  
Above them was a weeping willow tree, each individual leaf lovingly carved.  
Oswald traced along the indented lines cut beneath the swans to give the suggestion of a lake they were paddling on.

‘I just had to have it’, Ed concluded, ‘Do you see why?

Oswald saw why immediately.  
The tree was shaped like a natural umbrella above the two swans and the position of the birds necks and heads formed question marks.  
His symbol and Ed’s. Together.

‘I do’, Oswald said, voice cracking, ‘I love you Ed. I always have’.

He looked at Ed, heart overflowing and tears streaming down his cheeks as he moved towards him.  
Ed pulled him close and held him to his chest, fingers gripping him tightly as if he would never let go.  
In the darkness of the embrace, Oswald heard Ed’s racing heart against his cheek and then those blessed, honest, healing words from above him.

‘I know. I love you too’.


End file.
